


take me home

by spideywhiteys



Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [41]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Similar Age AU, and kiba took that personally, anyway this is pre-relationship, first off i cant believe im not the first one in this tag, good old country roads au, i saw an opportunity for the title and i took it, kiba is a country boy, tobirama is a city slicker from the north, tobirama is stressed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideywhiteys/pseuds/spideywhiteys
Summary: “Is it that simple to you?”Kiba’s teeth click. He tilts his head a bit, observing Tobirama a little too closely. “Is what?”“Talking. Taking breaks. Being around people.”“Well,” Kiba shifts a little, and the sound of Akamaru barking in the distance can be heard. “You haven’t really tried, have ya? Maybe ya didn’t like doin’ it back in your northern city, but you’re here now. So...shouldn’t ya try somethin’ different? Isn’t that why ya got away?”
Relationships: Inuzuka Kiba/Senju Tobirama
Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086938
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	take me home

**Author's Note:**

> Day 41: Country AU ft. Cucumber Mint / Tobirama + Kiba

“You ain’t from around here.”

The words are heavy with a southern twang, falling from the tongue of a young man with the face of a troublemaker. Dark eyes and short brown hair, a panting dog at his side that must be larger than a man on its hind legs. Clad in dirty overalls and a flannel, heavy boots and a smudge of mud across his cheek — the man looks like he was born and raised under the sun.

Tobirama doesn’t glance down at the suitcases he’s dragging down the long dirt road, but he does raise an eyebrow, insulting without words. “What gave it away?”

“You’re paler than a dove.” The other man replies earnestly, almost like he’s sincerely worried for Tobirama’s health. “You from the north or somethin’?”

“Or something.” 

The abrupt replies don’t seem to deter the brunette in the slightest. He’s taken to wandering behind Tobirama like he belongs there. “Is it real cold up there? Snowy? What’s it like? I ain’t ever seen snow before, we don’t much get it around these parts. Had a real bad frost coat the place a couple years back — I’m Kiba, by the way. Inuzuka Kiba. Mum would’a had my hide if she saw me lose my manners.”

Tobirama puts his eyes to the sky, squinting against the bright glare of the sun and cursing the sweat collecting under his clothes. It’s hot and muggy, he’s exhausted, and the last thing he wants to do is entertain some country bumpkin that’s too nosy for his own good.

Even if the dog is quite lovely.

“Am I supposed to care?” He replies dryly, sliding a crimson gaze over to the other, only to directly meet narrow, dark eyes in return. 

Kiba furrows his brow. “You’re kind of an asshole.”

Yet he continues to follow Tobirama all the way to his new home, a cute little cottage surrounded by trees and fields and completely,  _ totally  _ isolated. The nearest neighbor is miles away. It’s a lovely kind of solitude. Far different from the noise and pollution of the city. Though he doesn’t verbally answer Kiba’s questions, he does think about them, whether he wants to or not. The north  _ is _ cold. Freezing. It turned his life to ice and his heart into a bundled up fortress. He doesn’t have any cherished memories there, only the persistent desire to get away. That doesn’t mean he  _ hates _ the cold. He loves it, just doesn’t like the place or the people anymore. He could have gone further north, he knows….but a change of scenery is just what he needs.

“How long are you going to follow me?”

The dog — Akamaru, apparently — barks and nudges his knees. Kiba laughs and it’s the same kind of bright as Hashirama’s, but a little different. A little wilder. Not to say Hashirama isn’t wild, because he certainly is. But he’s a bulldozer and Kiba is —

* * *

Kiba stops by the next few days, always with different food that his mother has made. 

“Gracious hospitality and all, ya know. They don’t got that in the north?”

“Have.” Tobirama corrects. “It’s  _ ‘they don’t have that’. _ ”

No matter how many times Tobirama slams the door in Kiba’s face the man is always so carefree about it, coming right back like he can’t read the mood. Loping around the fields with his dog, or picking fruit from the orchard that swells between their two homes — because of course the stroppy Inuzuka would be that closest neighbor just a few miles away. He’s always a little dirty from rolling around like a child, sometimes even barefoot and running through the long grass with flowers in his pockets. He’ll throw rocks in the tiny pond in Tobirama’s backyard just to get his attention.

Tobirama is here to relax. To start his life over on his own, with no interruptions. He’s going to write novels in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a beautiful countryside and a distinct lack of family. He’s happy this way, really.

Because living with Hashirama near was a bit like sitting next to someone pointing a gun at you. His brother is perhaps a good man — or a great one. He’s not both. Too much of a conundrum. Too loose with his morals. Too eager to make sacrifices without consulting others just to get his way. Hashirama could build empires, but he doesn’t build trust in those he loves.

Tobirama is his own man. He can’t be a tool anymore. He’s tired of picking up the shattered pieces his brother leaves behind, and he’s fucking  _ tired _ of those goddamn Uchiha — especially the one Hashirama is obsessed with.

He types away at his desk, everything in his office carefully organized; library cases stacked with books border the walls, wifi router blinking away in the corner. There’s a window just beside the desk, white panes and usually cracked open to let a breeze in. With no built-in AC, he’s got to make do with what he can to circulate the air in here.

The only issue is that his office is on the first floor.

It’s been three weeks and he’s almost sad to say he’s used to the sight of tanned, dirty fingers wiggling under the cracked window and shoving it all the way up. A lopsided grin that flashes sharp teeth, and tanned skin glowing under the high-noon sun — Kiba. Always Kiba. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, short, dark strands of hair stuck to his temples. He’s in a white t-shirt today, no flannel in sight.

“Hey neighbor!”

Tobirama looks back to his computer, continuing to tap away at the keys. He’s determined to get the next few scenes of this novel done by tonight.

“Why do ya work so much?” Kiba asks, resting his arms on the sill.

“Why do you ask?” Tobirama grunts, backspacing furiously. “I feel as if the answer should be obvious. It’s my  _ job. _ I need to work if I want to make money.”

“Ya don’t look like the guy that’s in desperate need of money.”

His typing falters. “Since when do you know anything about me?”

“Hm.” Kiba shrugs. “I mean, I know that you like fish. ‘N that you suck in the heat and ya can skip stones pretty damn well for a guy from the city. Ya get this weird wrinkle in your forehead when you're stressed.” A pause, “You’re always stressed. I dunno how you can sit around in here all day and be so  _ boring. _ It’s like you never take breaks. I gotta drag you out all the time! I told my mom about you and she said you sound like a real stick in the mud. ‘N I mean she’s not wrong, but—”

Tobirama aborts the thought of brushing his fingers over his forehead to feel for the aforementioned wrinkle. His fingers twitch. He backspaces. Kiba keeps talking.

He pushes his keyboard away very calmly.

“Is it that simple to you?”

Kiba’s teeth click. He tilts his head a bit, observing Tobirama a little too closely. “Is what?”

“Talking. Taking breaks. Being around people.”

“Well,” Kiba shifts a little, and the sound of Akamaru barking in the distance can be heard. “You haven’t really tried, have ya? Maybe ya didn’t like doin’ it back in your northern city, but you’re here now. So...shouldn’t ya try somethin’ different? Isn’t that why ya got away?”

Tobirama watches a bead of sweat slide from Kiba’s hairline across his cheekbone. 

“Yeah,” he finds himself saying. “It is.”

Kiba grins, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. His hands are rough with years of outdoor work and he smells of fresh earth, something like petrichor, and cucumber mint chapstick. It floats through the window, carried by the breeze. “Come outside for a bit. Your fancy computer will be waitin’. I think ya need some time in the sun.”

“I’m just naturally this pale.” Tobirama reiterates, no heat behind his words. He pushes back from his desk. Maybe he  _ will  _ go out.

**Author's Note:**

> Support / Follow me on [Tumblr!]()


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